


Fastened, Fastening

by placentalmammal (biglizard)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Jewelry, Long-Distance Relationship, Love Confessions, Marihilda Week (Fire Emblem)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:20:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22236223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biglizard/pseuds/placentalmammal
Summary: Marianne and Hilda, apart and then together. Written for Marihilda Week, Day 2, "jewelry" and "long-distance."
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 1
Kudos: 43





	Fastened, Fastening

It had been a year since Hilda had seen Marianne. She’d gone to Almyra at her father’s behest, to learn the language and make connections in Claude’s court.

There had been a feast the night before she left. She hadn’t wanted any fanfare -- a small meal, shared among friends -- but Lorenz had insisted. He’d grown sentimental since Claude left Leicester, always looking for an excuse to gather their former classmates close and rhapsodize about their Academy days.

It was obvious to Hilda that Marianne had only agreed to please him. She sat stiffly beside Lorenz at the high table, her face fixed in a smile, her hands folded neatly in her lap. When she caught sight of Hilda, all the tension went out of her -- her smile turned genuine, and the harsh line of her soldiers softened into a more natural slouch. She turned quickly to Lorenz and said something that Hilda couldn’t hear from across the room, then slipped away before he could say anything in response.

“I’m so glad to see you,” she said, slipping her arm through Hilda’s and falling into step beside her, naturally in sync with her movements. “It’s so far to travel from Goneril, I wasn’t sure you’d make it.”

Hilda found Marianne’s hand and squeezed, her heart thumping against her breastbone. “And miss saying goodbye to you? As if!” Together, they made their way through the crowd, toward the veranda. Lorenz’s family had kept roses for generations, and the shadowy, sweet-smelling gardens were a favorite spot for quiet conversations and other moments of intimacy.

They found a place to sit, a stone bench tucked away in an alcove, hidden from view by a fountain and a flowering arbor. It was not quite large enough to accommodate them side-by-side, so they sat with their knees touching, facing one another. The murmur of the water masked the noise spilling out from the dining room, and for a moment, it was as if they were alone in the world.

Hilda, feeling suddenly and unaccountably shy, reached into her pocket and produced the simple bracelet she’d made for Marianne. A loop of cord, strung with rose quartz beads, pink like her own hair. She was struck by the sudden terror that her gift was too simple or too babyish, not at all suitable for expressing the emotions that Marianne’s impending departure had stirred in her.

“So you don’t forget me,” she said, pretending to be stern as she fastened the bracelet around Marianne’s wrist.

If Marianne thought it was a stupid gift, she didn’t show it. She smiled hugely, her dark eyes sparkling. “It’s lovely,” she said, staring admiringly at it. “I have something for you, too.”

It was a locket on a simple gold chain, a lock of curling blue hair tucked inside. “It belonged to my mother,” said Marianne, softly, “my father gave it to her when they found out they were having me.”

“Oh,” said Hilda, momentarily unable to muster any other response. “Oh Mari, it’s lovely--”

“It would make me happy to know you were wearing it, while I was away.”

Hilda looked at her, her eyes blurring with tears. “I’m going to miss you,” she said, and then she launched herself across the bench, landing in Marianne’s arms. “I don’t want to say goodbye,” she said, miserably.

Marianne kissed her then, her lips unbearably soft against Hilda’s. It was a simple thing, just a kiss between friends, a press of one mouth to another, but it split Hilda’s heart in two. Even more than before, she didn’t want to say goodbye, didn’t want to let Marianne out of her sight, even for a moment. They had been friends for so long, it wasn’t fair that they should become something more only to be parted for a year or more.

“It’s alright,” said Marianne, stroking Hilda’s hair. “We can write letters, and--”

Hilda kissed her again. “We can worry about the details later,” she said, “right now, all I want to do is kiss you, since I won’t be able to tomorrow.”

Marianne’s breath warm against Hilda’s cheek as she laughed. “You’re right,” she said softly, running her thumb across her face to catch a falling tear. “You’ve always been so practical.”

It was Hilda’s turn to laugh. “Don’t tell anyone,” she said, catching Marianne’s hand and kissing the inside of her wrist, “they’ll make me do _work_.”

Marianne laughed again, bending her head to recapture Hilda’s mouth. They passed the evening like that, exchanging a few sentimental words along with their kisses. Marianne fastened the locket around Hilda’s throat, kissing the back of her neck and promising the write every day. Hilda promised to write _twice_ a day, and that made Marianne laugh, her voice soft and silver and musical in the gathering dark.

The year of their separation passed slowly. Hilda removed Marianne’s locket only to sleep or bathe, and she often found herself holding onto it in moments of stress, soothed by the connection to her faraway love. She often wondered whether Marianne was doing the same in Almyra, if she was still wearing the bracelet Hilda had given her.

Marianne was set to return on the last day of the Garland Moon. _Claude taught me to ride a wyvern!_ she wrote, _I’ll be flying home to Fódlan, I can’t wait to see you._ Receiving her letter, Hilda was fearful that Marianne might be delayed by wind or storm, but the morning dawned clear and bright, not a cloud in the sky. Rising early, Hilda chose an outfit, changed her mind, saddled her favorite horse, and then changed her outfit again, too nervous to keep still. The entire time, she ran her hand over the by-now familiar contours of Marianne’s locket, which was the only constant between the morning’s many, many wardrobe changes.

Even ground-bound Fódlaners knew that Wyverns were repulsed by the smells and sounds of large cities, so her father had designated a landing area in the fields outside of Goneril. Hilda would have to ride out to meet Marianne. It would be a few hours, there and back, so Hilda put on a traveling cloak to protect her dress from the dirt of the road and set out, her stomach swooping nervously with each of her horse’s long-legged strides.

The entire time she waited for Marianne, she was tormented by her own anxieties. What if Marianne decided at the last moment to remain in Almyra? What if she had outgrown their romance during her time abroad? What if any of a thousand things went wrong, and Marianne rejected her, and Hilda had nothing to look forward to but a broken heart?

When Marianne appeared on the horizon, just a speck in the distant sky, Hilda almost didn’t believe her eyes. It had been so long since they had seen one another, and there she _was_ , growing larger each moment as she came into view. She flew in broad circles over the viewing, swooping lower with each pass, until she and the wyvern touched down in the field, flattening a huge circle of grass as they alighted upon the earth.

Marianne was dressed in the Almyran style, a belted jacket over loose trousers. She seemed taller, somehow, and Hilda realized that she was carrying herself upright, every gesture invoking a newfound confidence. Her hair was in total disarray, and her face was red, horribly sun- and windburnt, with a thousand freckles splattered across the bridge of her aquiline nose.

To Hilda’s eyes, she was so beautiful that her breath caught in her chest. She rushed forward at once, not even waiting for Marianne to dismount. “You’re back,” she said breathlessly, extending a hand to help Marianne down from her wyvern. “Oh Marianne, it’s so good to see you!”

Smiling, Marianne removed her riding gloves, thrusting them into her sash. The motion of her hands made her bracelet catch the light -- rose quartz beads, pink like Hilda’s hair.

She was still wearing Hilda’s bracelet.

“Hilda,” said Marianne, “it’s so good--”

Marianne flew into her arms, pulling her down for a passionate kiss before she could finish her sentence. “I missed you,” she said, when they broke finally apart for air. She didn’t want to let go of the other woman. “I missed you so much.”

“I’m here,” said Marianne. “All I want to do is kiss you, since I couldn’t yesterday.”

Hilda laughed, scrubbing happy tears from her face with her fists. “I wore your locket every day,” she said, fumbling for the chain to show Marianne. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

Marianne held her close, burying her face in Hilda’s hair. There was no need to respond, to say ‘me too,’ or to promise to bring Hilda along the next time she left. In that moment, it was enough just to be there together after so long apart.

In that moment, it was the only thing in the world that mattered.


End file.
